allbymyself

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Do you think that they'll understand That their fate is in their own hands? - Savoir Adore

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  • allbymyself 3w

    The song from your lip
    is a memory, a scream
    from the forgotten skies
    the fire on your breath
    is the scar tissue from
    a scorned sun; the starlight
    from a crashing meteor
    that is marked by life yet
    carries the scent of death.

    The words that fall from
    your half opened mouth
    are switch blade knives
    that cut through the edges
    of my skin, a whisper
    that slices through my
    bone with the force
    of a sledgehammer.

    The story you narrate
    as the starlight slips in
    through the blinds is
    inchoate, as indecisive
    as the thoughts that
    run like unchecked
    rainwater in your mind
    your face an uncut gem
    a treasure that I might
    forever seek but never find.

    - Avitaj

    Hi @raika_ @thegreymetaphor @dopamine

    Picture credit- Lucas Newton

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    Inchoate

    She bent most of the rules. She broke the rest.

    - Victoria Schwab

  • allbymyself 5w

    Sometimes they laugh
    because they do not see
    what is so beautiful about
    clinging on to candlelit
    dreams at the edges of
    your hair; they have not
    a prayer of comprehending
    the peace that floods into
    your skin like fresh air upon
    holding fireflies in your fingers.

    Sometimes they laugh
    because they read the words
    scribbled but not the soft
    laughter that lies between them
    they will never have the
    simple pleasure of knowing
    what music does to your
    soul when your body has
    forgotten how to listen.

    Sometimes they laugh
    because they think they
    know you because they
    have memorized every inch
    of your face, and every
    unsteady step of your feet
    but they never have and
    never will know the white
    hot flame of your shadow
    nor the red mist that is the
    cornerstone of your heart.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_ @thegreymetaphor

    Hiya. Still here. Just not writing as much these days. But this is my happy place and I will always stay. Somehow. Anyhow.

    Picture credit- Asa Steinarsdottir

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    Fireflies In Your Fingers

    I guess that's part of growing up too. Saying goodbye to the things you used to love.

    - Jenny Han (Always and Forever, Lara Jean)

  • allbymyself 6w

    Wild and vicious
    was the dance we
    had with the devil
    under pale blue moonlight
    up in the stars
    defying gravity were
    my feet and neon
    was my breath as
    the world fell from sight.

    Quiet and gentle
    was the tune they
    played as the flames
    licked the city street
    up in the deck chairs
    the sun hung low
    and the wind was asleep
    words were our games
    as disaster came to meet.

    Strong yet fragile
    were your bones
    as you fell to the floor
    and called my name
    brave but brittle
    is your young soul
    as you pray for change
    yet every day is the same.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_ @thegreymetaphor

    Picture credit- Ivan Tsaregorodtsev

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    Deck Chairs

    Fear both the heat and the cold of your heart, and try to have patience, if you can.

    - J.R.R.Tolkien

  • allbymyself 6w

    Picture credit- Luke Senica

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    Near the mountaintop, where the cold is biting and the snow not merely a gorgeous figment of our imagination, it is lonely; with the sort of quiet, that makes your heart pine for human speech.
    Near the top, it is lonely, and we must embrace the shadows and seek the light, all the light we cannot see.

    - Avitaj

  • allbymyself 7w

    That is the sound of your
    voice trying to whisper
    into your ears as you try
    to find the song that passed
    you by two decades ago
    at the foothills of the
    vast and withering wilderness.

    That is the sound of your
    skin trying to tear itself
    away from your blood and
    bone as you try to outrun
    a memory that clings to your
    body like shadowy mist
    on a cold December dawn.

    But we came to the gates
    where sin slept and angels lay
    sun beating down upon our fates
    you were calm and I was fey
    how terrible are our minds
    yet so bleak and beautiful too
    but our souls shall always know
    how we learned to walk in
    the rain and dance in the snow.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_ @thegreymetaphor

    Picture credit- Aleksey Kuprikov

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    Where Sin Slept and Angels Lay

    I didn't choose the blood that runs in my veins, any more than you chose your fate. You and I, we've become what we were made to become.

    - Veronica Roth

  • allbymyself 7w

    Mama sits under the sun
    singing to herself, humming
    to the wind, telling me that
    you could make stories out
    of shadows if your mind's
    not too worn out and your
    heart's really in it, and I
    promise myself that someday
    I'll spin tales out of fire
    and magic out of thin air.

    Mama has callused skin as
    she tells me the earth is kind
    to those who are willing to
    get their hands dirty, who
    don't shy away from a spot
    of blood, the ones who put
    in the hard yards come rain
    or shine, and the rain falls
    steady like silver diamonds
    as we sip coffee on wasted days.

    Mama is long gone up there
    somewhere in the skies
    slow dancing with the stars
    until she became one herself
    and I pick up my pen and
    claw at the wind, chasing
    words in a room half lit
    trying to remember that
    anything could be poetry
    if my heart's really in it.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_ @thegreymetaphor

    Picture credit- Cameron Venti

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    Stories Out of Shadows

    Pick up my pen and
    claw at the wind, chasing
    words in a room half lit
    trying to remember that
    anything could be poetry
    if my heart's really in it.

  • allbymyself 8w

    "Go", says the voice
    on the other side
    of the creaking door
    and my heart knows
    only one of us can
    be saved, maybe the
    gods have written it
    such that only one
    of us will be saved
    so I bolt towards the
    blinding light, leaving
    your footsteps to
    fade away in the dark.

    A decade has passed
    and your face is a
    memory seared into
    the outer edges of
    my weary skin, your
    voice a song that
    I forget, yet it floats
    at the tip of my tongue
    your life a pawn I
    traded for a month
    of freedom and a
    lifetime of nightmares.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_ @thegreymetaphor

    Picture credit- Frosty Ilze

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    Pawn

    A decade has passed and your face is a
    memory, your voice a song

  • allbymyself 8w

    Picture credit- Archie Carlson

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    With which stars do they go on speaking, the rivers that never reach the sea?

    - Pablo Neruda

  • allbymyself 8w

    31st August, 1939
    Dresden, Deutschland

    It is cold outside my window. The August cold. I know it is coming yet every year, it never fails to shake me to the bones.

    There is something else outside the window however. Something I cannot quite name. It's violence that rings through the air. It's a blood that has been needlessly spilled.

    Isabel hasn't written in over a week. I should worry, but I don't. Because I know Isabel and how forgetful she can be. She says she wants to learn the violin.

    I listen to a radio that is on its last legs. They say there is change in the wind. An insurrection that cannot be quelled any further, apparently.

    I wonder when I will get a letter from Isabel again. Or go and see her. I hope it's soon. I pray it's soon. I start to wonder if they are both really the same thing.

    On the radio, they say the sky will be different tomorrow. They say the world will be different.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_
    #diaryentry @writersnetwork

    Picture credit- Egor Yakushkin

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    The Last Day of Freedom

    On the radio, they say the sky will be different tomorrow. They say the world will be different

  • allbymyself 9w

    Here lies the tide
    resting at the depths
    of a restless ocean
    a tide that shall surely
    make its way to the
    shore and sweep away
    the sand, wash away
    the footprints, no
    matter how much
    you will it not too.

    Here lies the storm
    that is waiting at
    the edge of ashen skies
    a storm that shall surely
    wreak havoc of a kind
    quite terrible for a sane
    mind to truly comprehend
    it carries death and misery
    no matter how much
    you will it not to.

    Here lies the butterfly
    that shall alter the
    course of history forever.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @raika_

    Picture credit- Jason Hinrichsen

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    Butterflies

    Between the idea
    And the reality
    Between the motion
    And the act
    Falls the Shadow

    - T.S.Elliot